Third Offence

Cape Conspiracy?

I was scanning my neighborhood on Google maps when I noticed this street, North of where I live.

 

In case you can’t read it, it’s called Mullet Rd. “So what’s the big deal?” you may be asking yourself. “You’re near the ocean and a Mullet is a type of fish…”

This is true, but if you live in the Redneck Riviera it also has another meaning. I am referring, of course, to that hideous “Achy-Breaky-Big Mistakey” hair style that goes by the same name. Aside from being the divorce capital of the United States, Cape Canaveral HAS to be one of the leading Crystal Methed, Mullet capitals of the free world.

If you’re still not convinced of the true nature of the road’s name, allow me to demonstrate below.

See? It’s even shaped like a Mullet. This is right up there with the conspiracy theory of Washington DC laid out as a Freemason Pentangle.

I’m Not From Around Here.

Once again I found myself in a place where I stick out like a cat at the Westminster Kennel Club.

My girlfriend and I stopped at a small bar while on our way to see a play. This was another one of those semi-Redneck bars that permeate Brevard County Florida. The kind of bar where the décor consists of endless NASCAR items, Budweiser memorabilia, singing fish decorations, pool tables, drunks, and dim lights (the ones that work). The atmosphere was dark, smokey, and smelled of a combination of stale beer, Pine-Sol, old grease and fish.

So we pulled ourselves up to the bar and ordered 2 beers. I in a new pair of Bahaman style cotton pants with a linen Guayabera shirt and she with a nice skirt and natural raw silk blouse. Nothing fancy, just comfortable and clean.

After a few sips of beer, from off to my left I hear, in a thick Australian accent “Youse aynt from around ere are ya mate?”

See? Even foreigners can tell!

The South Will Rise... Again?

I was born and raised in Philadelphia. I moved to Floridaback in 1991 and I now live in Cape Canaveral.

As exotic as that may sound, around here it goes by many other monikers. “Crack Canaveral” is one, “Cape Carnival” another. My favorite one is “The Redneck Riviera”.
In all actuality, this area is a mix of homeless drug addicts, low income people/families to multi-million dollar beach condos. I am somewhere in between with a modest 2 bedroom apartment just 2 doors from the beach. That may sound expensive but I pay a moderately low $600/month in rent and I am lucky to have it.

So I am out one night and taking in the local “culture” and I end up at a non-descript average watering hole. After a little while I noticed that I was attracting some attention to myself. Beady eyes darted out from under greasy Budweiser hat brims as beard framed mouths mumbled unintelligible comments back and forth amongst themselves. I realized that being the only man in the place with clean clothes, combed hair, and the fact that I have all of my teeth made me stick out like a Rabbi at a Klan rally.

Suddenly someone shouted out “The south will rise again” followed by a classic rebel yell to which many of the others joined in. Then, from out of the dark, someone laughed and asked “Again?” To my horror, I realized it was me. In a moment of nervous energy I just blurted out my thoughts indiscriminately as if I was suddenly possessed by a spirit of self destruction. Needless to say, this started a barrage of “Yankees this…” and Yankees that…” etc. “Go back home, we don’t need you” on and on.

Now I have to ask, what is it with rednecks and the Civil War? I learned about the Civil War some time in fourth grade or so, for a few weeks. It was fought, the North won, now were the USA again and that all happened 150 years ago… Or so I thought.

I have run into this same attitude over and over again around here. I really thought that the classic redneck southerner was an invention of Hollywoodor basically a thing of the past but no. Ask any Redneck and he will tell you about the devil Yankees and how they are destroying his way of life and are responsible for his economic woes. Yes, as a Yankee I am responsible for ruining his fishing time, beer drinking time, pot smoking time, and interfering with his oxycotton supply. It seems the poorer one gets the angrier they are. It’s not their fault they dropped out of school, had 6 kids, and live on welfare, it’s my fault. I am a “Damned Yankee”.

So anyway, back at the bar. These guys weren’t really threatening and they didn’t appear to really be angry. They were more enjoying having me to banter around and just getting a good laugh out of it. Then one asked me “Where yall from?” “Pennsylvania” I answered. “Where are you from?” I asked in return… “Georgia” he replied, others quipped up with their answers “Alabama”, South Carolina”, another “Georgia” and a “Tennessee”… “See that?” I asked. “Looks like were all from up North here”. After a few moments of dead silence one of them said “But at least I aint no Yankee"!